


Counting Sheep

by Twyd



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Childhood, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Orphanage, Orphans, Prompt Fic, Wammy House, Wammy's Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 05:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13897182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: For the prompt: "Prompt: LxB Wammy's House ghost story. Totally up to you how the ghost element and the characters and the shippy element works into it, the mood of it, how explicit it is, and all of that! Just... L and B and Wammy's and ghostiness."





	Counting Sheep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BB90](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BB90/gifts).



At exactly 7am, L open his eyes and swings his legs into his bunny slippers. They are hand me downs and slightly too big, so he has to scuff his heels as he walks to keep them on. He stays in the centre of the hall, to avoid the nails that stuck up from the unfinished floorboards.

He can hear Wammy in B’s room, coaxing him out of bed. While L used to wake like someone has turned on a lamp, B fell into a dark tunnel of sleep that he needed to be physically rocked out of. There is no sign of A.

L goes downstairs to their study and opens his books. He kicks off his slippers and moves into his crouch, getting comfortable. They are learning about the US government’s latest developments in controlling the weather via cloud seeding. They’ve been learning this for some time. L wants a sweet, and tries not to look in the direction of the kitchen, knowing it will make things worse. 

B and Wammy come downstairs, unaccompanied by A. B is already complaining, and L doubts today is going to be a good day. 

“You nerd,” B says on seeing him, messing his hair up, but L doesn’t care. He likes learning about the clouds. 

B is exactly one year and two months younger than L, but he had had a little brother, he had been to a school with normal children and played with them in the street, so in many ways he is L’s senior by years. B often takes the role of L’s adoptive big brother to compensate for his own loss.

“Where’s A?” B demands of Wammy.

“A didn’t feel like coming down today,” Wammy says quietly. 

This is not wise.

“Well, I didn’t feel like coming down either. So why am I here?”

B normally settles after a few minutes rant, but today he is particularly vitriolic, sneering at Wammy, pulling L’s hair, kicking their table. Perhaps A’s absence is unsettling him. L craves his sweets more than ever. 

“But what’s the point of it all?” B keeps saying. “What’s the point in doing it all over and over, when it’s not going to do anything?”

L wants to put his hands over his ears. Unnoticed by either of them, he slips out of the room. He follows the sunlight in the hallway to the front door, and creaks it open. 

The sun is shining. L is still in his pyjamas, but it doesn’t matter. The leaves don’t stick to his bare feet. 

L walks to the end of their drive and stands completely still. He tilts his head back and counts the bird nests in the nearby oak. He can hear the town cathedral’s bell ringing in the distance. A breeze lifts the leaves below him. 

Footsteps approach him then. L turns, just in time to see a boy his age walking towards him. L looks into his eyes, as those eyes comes closer and closer until they join with his own, and L gives a cry of fright as the boy steps through him.

He whirls around, breathing hard, but the other boy is already walking away where L can’t follow. He hasn’t even adjusted his pace. L stares after him feeling like a piece of himself has been stolen. 

His eyes fill, and then Wammy’s hands are on his shoulders.

“You know you’re not supposed to come out here.”

He sees B watching him from behind Wammy’s back, and lets out a sob, and another, and another. Wammy picks him up and holds him to his chest. 

There are no lessons that day, and A still doesn’t come out. 

At bedtime, Wammy reads L a story, but it is one he has reads a hundred times, for they don’t have many books and no way of getting new ones. 

At exactly half past nine, Wammy gives L a kiss on the forehead and turns off his light, even though none of them will sleep. None of them will ever need to sleep again. 

L counts sheep anyway, like he always does.

He has counted 105 sheep when B comes through his wall.

“Are you all right?”

L says nothing.

“You should have told me, I would have come with you,” he says reproachfully. They normally only go to the end of the drive together, hand in hand. They can’t feel the rain or the sun, but they can feel each other’s hands.

“A boy walked through me,” L says.

“I know. I saw.” He pauses. “What did it feel like?”

“Nothing. I didn’t feel anything.”

He crumples and starts to cry all over again.

B slips into bed with him and holds him. L clings back, desperate for something he can feel. 

“At least we’re not on our own,” B says eventually, and L nods. He will always have B to play and talk and for hugs, even if he could be moody or even violent. L doesn’t remember having any brothers or sisters, but he’s sure this is what it must be like.

They spend each night together, while Wammy pretends to sleep or whatever it is he does away from their eyes. Sometimes A joins them, but not very often. Sometimes they play cards. Sometimes they sneak down to the kitchen and pretend to bake cakes. Sometimes, if B is in a certain mood, they talk about what they would be if they grew up. 

B would be a detective in Los Angeles. He’d marry a fellow detective and they’d both be famous. B is generally better at this game than L is. All L knows is that he would be wherever he is needed. They both agree that they would not be in a broken children’s home in Winchester, England. 

BB elaborates on his dream life, hands behind his head, so convincingly that it almost seems real.

“What about me?” L says, as B plans a whole life without him.

“What about you?” B says, laughing. “You’d be in LA, too. You’d follow me there. You’d have to find me, though.”

He smiles at the look on L’s face. 

“It’s just a game, L.”

“But if it wasn’t- “

“I’ll always be with you,” B says. “Even if we weren’t like this. You could only get rid of me if you outlived me.”

L says nothing. He’d never admit it, not even to Wammy, but in some ways he’s glad they’re dead.


End file.
